


'Breaking New Ground'

by MoonKitty



Category: Final Fantasy XIV, Final Fantasy XIV: ARR
Genre: F/M, Gen, I am shipper trash, SPOILERS for certain Main Storyline things, STARTING THE NEW YEAR OUT RIGHT WITH TERRIBLE SHIPPING THINGS, lmao what is my life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-04 18:29:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3081146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonKitty/pseuds/MoonKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble-ish writings, mostly focusing on the relationship between the Warrior of Light and the grandson of the leader of the Archons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Truth Be Told

**Author's Note:**

> There will be some Main Storyline spoilers mentioned in this story, so if you're not caught up and care about such things, read at your own risk.

Truth be told, what Sizhu Jakkya found on returning to the Waking Sands after defeating Titan had been like something from one of her worst nightmares--no, not ‘like’, it _was_ one of her worst nightmares. She’d left her blood-family behind, all save her twin brother Mikh’a who had come with her, had taken on the burden of exile as well, though more for his own reasons than anything to do with her. Here in Eorzea, particularly among the Scions, she had found a new family…only to have so many of them killed or captured in one fell swoop.

Truth be told, she’d cried. After Noraxia had died and she’d finished forcing herself to search the entirety of the place, checking for survivors (there weren’t any) or anyone hiding who’d been missed (no one), she’d stumbled out of the Waking Sands and plunked herself down at the end of the ferry-dock. There, she let the tears wash over her, dripping from her chin onto the rippling face of the ocean, salt water meeting salt water, an offering of sorts to the Navigator.

Sizhu had never understood why her patron deity was Llymlaen while her brother, born mere seconds before her, had received Menphina, the traditional goddess revered by the Keepers of the Moon. Why, then, had she been given the sea-goddess for her patron? At least Azeyma would have made some semblance of sense--her mother’s mother had been a Seeker of the Sun, after all--but the Navigator? Her mother had never given her a proper explanation for it, simply stating that it was the will of the gods, which from typically stern and somber Mikh Jakkya meant an end to the conversation.

Now, though, for the second time in her life, Sizhu watched the rush and ripple of the waves through dry, puffy eyes and wondered if perhaps it wasn’t fitting after all.

She didn’t move from that spot until the sun had gone down; then she’d taken a cupped double-handful of the clear, cool ocean water and splashed it up into her face. She dumped another over the top of her head after the first, a self-baptism, washing away all evidence of her tears and inwardly asking for guidance and blessing both.

Noraxia’s words had been too dearly bought to go unheeded, so next Sizhu had sought sanctuary at the church of Saint Adama Landama, just north of Drybone. The long chocobo ride there had given her time to set her mind in order. This was not a time for further tears, it was a time for action. A time to be strong, and carry on the hopes and ideals of the slain...whatever that meant, and whatever it took.

She didn’t cry about it again. Not when she curled up in a corner of the church and let her weary body find whatever uneasy rest it could. Not when she returned to the Waking Sands to remove the bodies and see to the burial of her comrades. Not when she’d stood over their graves, graves they had to share with others, unmarked and unremarkable.

She didn’t cry, but she didn’t smile either as she went about whatever random tasks the people in and around the church asked of her, not for nearly a week. Not until _he_ came along, making his grand entrance and giving her hope that perhaps her new family wasn’t completely lost after all.

And so, truth be told, she was grateful to Alphinaud Leveilleur. His caustic wit and steady determination to achieve his goals were a welcome distraction, something else to focus on, something to _do,_ and his company was just as welcome. With her brother basically settled in Limsa Lominsa and always focused on pursuits of his own, she’d been without anyone to really talk to for some time, particularly anyone her own age. Even better, Alphinaud was a great deal more talkative than the often-taciturn Mikh’a, and proved to be great fun to tease, which she did constantly and playfully; and for the most part, he returned the jabs, by all appearances enjoying the verbal sparring every bit as much as she.

* * *

They’d been travelling together, the two of them and Cid, for the better part of a week when their hunt for the _Enterprise_ took them deep into Coerthas. They had left Camp Dragonhead, moving on to Whitebrim, though the welcome there had been far from warm despite everything they’d done thus far.

Sizhu was newly returned from yet another quest, one of the seemingly endless errands intended to win the trust of the Ishgardians of House Durendaire, Lord Drillemont in particular. It was slow going, however, and largely thankless work; by now, she was used to being considered an outsider, but being called “heathen” and “heretic” was starting to wear thin. It was something of a relief that the person she needed to speak with next was Alphinaud--at least he would call her by name, and had some measure of trust for her already despite the difference in their points of origin.

She found the other teen shivering by the firepit, looking chilled to the bone and generally miserable, though apparently his teeth weren’t chattering enough to prevent him from speaking with his usual poise.

“Ah, Sizhu. In case you have yet to notice, my attire is ill suited to this climate.”

Watching him, Sizhu was struck by a sudden impulse to reach out and pull the young Sharlayan close, to warm him with her own body’s heat, though resisting that urge was easy, considering how strange and unexpected it was.

And yet...

This, something told her, was an opportunity for a whole new kind of teasing, something she'd never attempted before, and Sizhu decided to try it out and see what sort of results she got. So she smiled at him the way she’d seen other female Miqo’te smile at prospective mates--or more recently, how the dancing girls of Ul’dah smiled at their customers--her eyes falling alluringly half-closed as she almost literally purred, “Mm, I can see that…but you know…I can think of something that would warm you up pretty quickly…”

She took a purposeful step forward, and the Elezen teen took a startled step back, though the large raised firepit behind him prevented him from withdrawing any further from her relentlessly continuing advance.

“Oh~? What’s the matter, Alphie?”

Alphinaud shook his head as she took one slow, deliberate step, then another, apparently too taken aback by her actions to protest her use of that nickname. “Nothing,” he replied, seeming to steel himself, drawing himself up and straightening his shoulders, standing his ground. “Nothing in the least, save this intemperate weather.”

Sizhu gave a tiny chuckle at how resolute he looked, but she wasn’t quite ready to drop the act just yet. “This’ll be nice, I promise. There’s nothing to worry about…”

Now she was so close that she could feel the heat from the firepit beating on her face, and after another step the front of her bliaud was nearly brushing against the young Sharlayan...

...At which point she smirked even wider at his distinctly wary expression, and pulled a thick woolen robe out of her bag, gently but firmly pressing it against his chest until his hands came up to grasp it. Flashing him an amiable smile that abruptly held no trace of her previous amorous demeanor, Sizhu turned around and walked away without another word, leaving him standing there and looking after her, openly bemused.

On her return a few minutes later with two cups of steaming-hot tea, she found that he was already wearing the robe, and subsequently shivering a lot less. The Miqo’te girl giggled to herself a little at the sight of him in her clothes, unable to decide if he looked strange or if it actually suited him, though she swallowed her amusement before she approached.

“Here,” she said, offering Alphinaud one of the plain but serviceable tin cups. “I sneaked a taste of mine already, and it’s not bad. Though it does make me miss sweet Thanalan tea… _ah!”_ Swiftly she flung out a hand towards him in warning as he raised the cup to his lips. “Careful, it’s hot!”

The arcanist rolled his eyes a bit, though his smile and tone were both good-natured, if a little wry. “Indeed, I should expect so. That is the point of such a drink, is it not? To warm the drinker with its heat.” Nonetheless, he blew on it first before chancing a sip, finding that it still remained just shy of the right temperature. He took a longer gulp anyway, welcoming the way it burned a bit as it trickled down his throat, despite the fact that he knew he’d doubtless scalded his tongue somewhat.

Sizhu was watching him, he realised as he lowered his already half-empty cup, her own tea temporarily forgotten as she waited for his reaction.

“I must say that I quite thoroughly agree with your assessment. This tea is strong and bitter, a bracing drink without a hint of sweetness. Fitting for this stark, austere country, for although it is not a pleasant drink, it _is_ warm at the very least, which makes it serviceable enough, if not enjoyable.” He turned a smile over at her, and she didn’t miss the faint, teasing glint in his expression. “I shall have to return this favour when next we pass through the Quicksand--and fear not, I’ll ensure they add plenty of cream and honey.”

Sizhu stifled a chuckle behind her own tea cup, a curious warmth spreading through her chest that she wasn’t certain was due only to the tea. It felt...different somehow, though she couldn’t put a name to the feeling.

“Mm, just cream in mine,” she corrected, then tilted her head in consideration. “Well, maybe a little maple sugar, too. But definitely plenty of cream!”

“As you wish,” Alphinaud agreed, dipping his head slightly in acknowledgement.

They finished their tea in comfortable silence, then discussed the next move they should make regarding their current quest, which of course ended with Sizhu heading back out into the snow yet again. Being alone in that barren wilderness gave her plenty of time to think, though, and as she crunched her way through knee-deep snow, the Miqo’te girl considered the fact that neither of them had brought up her brief, teasing flirtation.

Truth be told, she was glad of that, even if she couldn’t quite put a finger on why.


	2. ‘Interesting’ Means

With the _Enterprise_ reclaimed and newly outfitted to enable them to reach the Howling Eye, all that remained before facing off against the Harpy Queen of the Ixals was a discussion of tactics and a long night of failed attempts at sleep for all three of them. Mother Miounne had more than willingly provided rooms for each of them at the Carline Canopy, as well as a hearty meal and her permission to make use of whatever they needed for their preparations, be it space, matériel, or her own understanding ear. Cid was doing some last minute checks on the airship--clearly his way of dealing with any anxiety he might feel over the coming confrontation--which left Sizhu and Alphinaud alone in a private side-room to discuss what little they knew of Garuda.

Sizhu had been listening for the most part, leaning over the table with him as he pored over assorted maps, books, and scrolls. While there were plenty of rumours and superstitions about the Primals, they didn’t seem to have all that much reliable information regarding what actual combat might entail, though that hadn’t stopped Alphinaud from rattling on about several different theories and suspicions. Before long, she’d found herself staring at his mouth, mesmerized by the full, pouty curve of his lower lip as well as the perfect bow-shaped arches and dip of the upper. And they were such a soft-looking, delicate pink, too…

The Elezen youth’s full attention suddenly shifted from an elegantly-bound tome lying open in front of him onto Sizhu herself, his expression that of someone who clearly expected an answer to a previous comment or question.

Sizhu surprised both of them when she responded not with words, but by taking a swift half-step forward, leaning over just slightly, and kissing him. It was chaste and brief, scarcely lasting two seconds, if that; but it was also done decisively, and she didn’t miss the mark, placing that kiss _very_ squarely on his lips. Then, quickly as she’d begun, Sizhu ended it and stepped back--two steps instead of just the half of one she’d taken forward, violet eyes wide, unsure as to how badly she’d crossed the line just now. Skittish as she felt, and much as she wanted to do nothing other than dither in place and fiddle with the hems of her sleeves, she managed to sneak a glance at his face—then paused, her whole body going stock-still as she stared at the other Scion.

It was _unheard of_ for Alphinaud Leveilleur to _ever_ be truly struck speechless, but that was without a doubt the case at the moment, judging by his slightly-open mouth and the blank, uncomprehending expression on his face. He blinked several times rapidly, obviously trying to make sense of what had just happened and failing, rather.

An impulsive rush of boldness overtook her, and with a sort of audacity she hadn’t known she possessed, Sizhu took advantage of both the silence and those invitingly-pursed lips and kissed him again. And while it was every bit as chaste as the previous one, this kiss was also longer, and _firmer,_ her mouth moving against his insistently as her hands grasped at his upper arms.

For the barest fraction of a second, she could’ve sworn that he was leaning into the kiss, that he had kissed her back, that his hands had come up to brush against and lightly cradle her elbows; then he was taking a few rapid steps backwards, pulling out of her grasp, and she let him go without contest.

“I don’t recall granting you permission to take such liberties with my person.” He’d quite clearly recovered from that inarticulate lapse, his usual poise and cool self-possession present and easily perceptible. He made a show of brushing at the spots on his arms where she’d taken hold, as if to dust off any trace of her, pointedly not looking at the Miqo’te girl as he addressed her. “I’ll thank you to _not_ do it again.”

Plenty of other people would have been offended to receive such an imperious dismissal after kissing someone, but it didn’t even faze Sizhu. Her mother had been far more domineering, sometimes almost outright cruel with her choice of words even in the most delicate of moments; next to that, this was nothing. In fact, this back-and-forth banter was comfortable, familiar ground, something she knew how to navigate, unlike what had passed between them bare seconds ago. She’d gladly let that matter go until she’d had more time to think about it and figure out why she’d done it. For now, the usual mutual testing of wits was more than welcome, and set her grinning at the Elezen Arcanist widely enough to display pointed canines.

“Mm, maybe so, but I think you’d thank me even more if I did it again…perhaps when you least expect it.” Her toothy grin shifted into a deceptively innocent expression, as if she wasn’t making an intentional attempt at trying his patience. “Unless you’d prefer now?”

“No,” he replied primly, somehow managing to look down his nose at her, despite the fact that he was a good inch shorter, his mouth set in its usual superior half-smirk. “Not now, later, or indeed ever.”

Sizhu met his smirk with another impish smile of her own. “Not ever, huh? That’s a funny thing to say when we both know you liked it.” Casually folding her arms behind her head, she added, “I mean…you _did_ kiss me back.”

“I did nothing of the sort,” he denied roundly, sounding ever so faintly irritated for the first time. Sizhu gleefully awarded herself a point as the other teen directed a cool look her way. “Are you aware of precisely how much time and interest I wish to devote to matters of this nature? _None._ Therefore, it stands to reason that you would be best served turning your attentions elsewhere.”

The Miqo’te girl let out a low, considering hum that was far more playful than thoughtful, then fairly beamed at him, leaning towards him pointedly. “But why should I keep hunting when I already have the target I want in my sights? You’re the most interesting person I’ve met so far, so I’m not interested in anyone else more than you.” Alphinaud watched her warily, as if afraid she might be planning a third attack, a further attempt at winning him over; instead, she seemed to wilt in place, shoulders and ears drooping a bit as she withdrew into herself, looking both pensive and perplexed. “...Though...I guess I haven’t even really figured out if I _am_ seriously interested…or what that even feels like, or means.” Her expression went decidedly sheepish as she rubbed at the back of her neck self-consciously. “That kiss was sort of an accident.”

Alphinaud made a soft sound of mingled amusement and exasperation, though the latter was decidedly more pronounced. “I should think it can _hardly_ be considered accidental when you do something _twice._ In any case, regardless of what you determine your thoughts or feelings to be, while I suppose that I am flattered, I have no intention of being the object of anyone’s ephemeral adolescent fancy. Not even yours.” Those expressive, often-gesturing hands came to rest on his hips as he arched an eyebrow at her. “If I may speak candidly, we are both of us quite intensively engaged in saving Eorzea, which is proving to be quite the task, considering its seemingly continual desire to collapse inward on itself over the most senseless minutiae. Neither of us have the time to squander on such frivolous and irrelevant matters as...as...”

There he finally faltered, flustering ever so slightly and looking away from the other teen.

“Courtship?” Sizhu quipped, pseudo-helpfully. She awarded herself _three_ points this time for how red the tips of his ears flushed in response, although somehow the rest of his face maintained its usual colour.

 _“Dalliances_ of any sort,” Alphinaud finished, finally finding the words he’d been grasping for and laying them out with pointed precision. “Setbacks from such juvenile causes as emotional entanglements are the last thing we need bother with at present.”

“Who said it has to be emotional, or an entanglement? Can’t we just have fun?”

And once again, he was left speechless, staring at her with wide-eyed shock.

 _Oops, did I offend his sensibilities?_ Sizhu wondered with a mostly-muffled chuckle. He _did_ seem to be rather old-fashioned...though perhaps she’d just caught him off-guard. In any case, she was really only joking, playing around a little in the hopes of relieving some of the tension of the moment, so it didn’t really matter what the other teen was truly thinking. Regardless, she’d gotten him back and ‘won’ the conversation, and Sizhu was quite content with that, so she decided to let the topic drop.

For now, anyway.

With that, the young White Mage stretched expansively, heaving a satisfied sigh. “Mm, it’s been months since I came here, and somehow it’s still a little strange to be awake during the day and asleep at night all the time… Anyroad, I’m gonna go get some sleep. You should do the same soon, Alphie.”

Alphinaud shot her a look rife with mordancy (she _would_ insist on using that nickname, despite the fact that he’d spoken to her about it on multiple occasions), but Sizhu just chuckled, giving him a wave and a cheeky little wink before heading down the hallway to her room. Despite the trials promised by the next day, sleep found her quickly, its hold both gentle and secure; if she dreamt, she did not remember it, nor did she stir until morning.

Alphinaud sighed and waved away her words, turning back to his maps and books with an air of intense focus. Once he was certain she’d gone, however, he brought his hand up to his mouth in a loosely clenched fist, pressing the backs of his fingers against his lips, conflict and consternation clear in the vague narrowing of his eyes.


	3. A Matter of 'Mastering'

Glad as she’d been to let the subject drop at the time, Sizhu couldn’t help thinking about it afterwards. Admittedly, the threat of the Ultima weapon had occupied a lot of her thoughts, but she wasn’t the type to brood or dwell on future obstacles. She’d face the thing when she faced it, and she’d either take it down or die trying. Worrying about it wouldn’t change the outcome of that fight, so she might as well focus on other things for the time being. Things like improving her gear and her skills, helping people badly in need of a champion, exploring dangerous places, and also having a bit of lighthearted fun here and there with other like-minded adventurers.

No matter how fantastic or dangerous the places she ended up, however, she couldn’t seem to prevent her thoughts from wandering back towards Alphinaud with an almost frustrating regularity. Sizhu found herself chuckling as she imagined what sort of cutting response he’d give to the various rude or unreasonable people she encountered, or how aloof but secretly flustered he’d get if someone kind paid him an honest compliment. Still, even if she thought of him often, the Miqo’te girl didn’t consider it strange. Friends and family were often at the forefront of one’s mind, after all, and while she could sense that what she felt when she looked at the other teen was decidedly different from how she felt when she looked at her brother Mikh’a or Cid or the rest of the Scions… Well, she hadn’t really known him long enough to be sure of anything, her own uncertain feelings least of all.

Still, uncertain or not, that didn’t stop her from doing her damnedest to be a shameless flirt or obliquely reference that night before they faced down Garuda whenever their paths _did_ happen to cross--not because she was particularly serious about any of it, but because it really was fun, almost a game, and one she found that she played quite well. 

Her favourite new game, though, was what she privately called ‘Bring The Thing’, and it was every bit as simple as it sounded. She’d brought Alphinaud things from all over Eorzea: interesting flowers, pretty stones, a finely-made tea set, exotic articles of clothing, unusually small animals that often felt inclined to follow their captor around, and so on.

It wasn’t only things she’d found, either. Adventuring wasn’t always non-stop action, so she’d had some down time--enough to get the chance to practise her needlework skills. Her mother had insisted that all Miqo’te should learn the basics of that trade, and leatherworking as well since they were hunters, so Sizhu hadn’t been a complete beginner, though she’d learned much since her arrival to Eorzea. In short, the Moogle Doll, Oasis Rug, Vanya Robe of Casting, and various wooden or leather trinkets she left him were handmade, not bought, and their quality was actually much the better for it.

Not that she expected him to keep, much less use, any of it. Especially knowing how he felt about the Scions receiving gifts from the various businesses and rich would-be patrons in Ul’dah.

...Then again, he wasn’t always above accepting gifts, provided they were expensive or important enough, as Sizhu had learned when her quests took her Mor Dhona, and she had to go all the way back to Ul’dah to fetch the mammet heart from the Goldsmith’s Guild. She’d also learned that Alphinaud wasn’t above taking revenge indirectly...or using semi-public humiliation as part of said revenge.

The exchange with Serendipity had started off well enough, and had gone without a hitch...until Sizhu asked about the cost of ‘a heart fit for a prince among mammets’. It would be significant, of that she was certain, and she wasn’t entirely sure she’d have enough on hand to cover the bill. But to her surprise, the guildmaster just laughed.

“...Payment? Oh, that won’t be necessary. The heart is for Master Alphinaud’s personal use after all. He notified us a short while ago that his servant would be coming to collect it.”

_Servant?_

Sizhu blinked, pursing her lips in surprise, only half-listening as the purple-haired Hyur continued to chatter brightly about Alphinaud’s tender years and status as a benefactor of her guild since her predecessor’s time.

“The Goldsmith’s Guild wouldn’t dream of charging him,” she said with a twinkle, then offered a carefully-wrapped package to Sizhu. “But here is the mammet heart! May it serve you well! Oh, and please do pass on my compliments to your master!”

_**...Master,** huh?_ The Miqo’te mage’s eyes narrowed even as a lopsided, toothy smirk cut across her face. When it came to revenge, it was always all or nothing with Sizhu, and ‘all’ far more often than ‘nothing.' _Well, if **that’s** what he wants…_

Her next stop was the Weaver’s guild, where she had her (by now) very good friend Redolent Rose help her design the perfect outfit for the servant of a young noble:

A maid’s uniform.

One with lace, ribbons, and frills in all the right places, and with a skirt short enough that she was showing a considerable amount of shapely leg, not to mention the daring swoop-cut of the top, which revealed an almost scandalous amount of cleavage.

All told, she was wholly satisfied that her ‘master’ would be _quite_ unable to look at her without the tips of his ears turning pink once again.


	4. For Those About To Rock (The Castrum)

_“Before me stands the adventurer Sizhu Jakkya. You all know her as the woman who will lead the unit tasked with destroying the Ultima Weapon. We Scions know a different Sizhu, however. We know her as a dear friend who has endured untold hardship on our behalf--a true hero who has ever blazed a path for us to follow. And why do I tell you this? I tell you, friends, because it is time for us to blaze a path for her! Go now, Sizhu, and bring us one step closer to the dawn!”_

It was an inspiring speech, the ready resolve and honest sentiment behind it almost as compelling as the words themselves, if not actually more so; Sizhu could practically feel the rising excitement and determination of the people around her.

Alphinaud was certainly his grandfather’s child, if all she’d been told of Louisoix Leveilleur was true.

Even Sizhu herself had felt her conviction, her dedication to protecting this place and these people, grow stronger as she listened to him speak, though part of her felt undeniably proud. Not over her own actions--she’d just been the right person in the right place at the right time, even if it had often been her own choices, not simple chance that had placed her there. She was proud to be a part of this, to have met all these people, to have found something worth fighting her hardest for; but most of all, she found, she was proud to hear reserved, aloof Alphinaud freely and openly call her _friend._

Perhaps she was starting to truly understand what her grandmother had meant when she’d said that the things hardest won were also often the most dear.

It took a while to get free of the crowd of well-wishers, but as they all drifted off, she checked her supplies and then anxiously checked them again--to be certain everything really was in order, yes, but mostly just to give herself something to do, to give herself time to forcibly calm the sudden odd flutter in her chest. But the appointed hour of action was drawing near, and she couldn’t put this off forever, unaccountably nervous as she suddenly felt as she went in search of Alphinaud at long last.

Locating him wasn’t hard; she found him standing near the gates, calm and composed as ever, and while he didn’t seem to be particularly busy at the moment, he didn’t look over at her as she approached, didn’t react to her presence at all until she spoke.

“Hey…” she started, then faltered, not quite sure what to say now that it came down to it. “...I just wanted you to know...that meant a lot to me, what you said just now.”

The Elezen teen turned his face towards her, but didn’t quite meet her eyes, staring at a point just over her shoulder, which Sizhu found more than a little off-putting, and puzzling besides.

“Indeed? I don’t think I said anything particularly noteworthy,” he said airily, with a dismissive wave of a hand. “Of course, it’s certainly for the best if you found it to be inspirational in any way. You’ll need to be in top form for the coming fight.”

Oddly enough, his familiar lofty attitude put her at ease, her previous nervousness melting away as she fell into her customary teasing habits. The Miqo’te girl smiled winsomely, leaning sideways in the hopes of meeting his eyes directly, though her efforts proved to be in vain. “I’m not worried. The other adventurers coming with me are all great. We’ll look out for each other.”

“I’m pleased to hear that you consider your chances of success to be good.”

It was a decidedly cool response, even for him, and Sizhu’s smile faded as he turned his face away from her again.

“Alphie,” she said quietly, and even that nickname--which had almost always gotten her an indignant snort or disapprovingly flat stare at the very least--failed to earn her so much as the briefest of glances.

 _“Alphinaud,”_ she tried again, this time louder, more sharply, reaching out to take hold of his upper arm; even that got no real response, other than the slightly smaller teen neatly pulling away, avoiding her questing fingers. “You just called me your dear friend in front of everyone, but you won’t even look at me. What’s going on?”

“Quite a lot, actually. We _are_ about to storm an Imperial stronghold, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Sizhu's temper, usually easy to hold in check, briefly flared at that. “Mm, that’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it!”

“Well perhaps it _should be,”_ the Elezen youth retorted, more heat than usual in his words. Sizhu hadn’t heard him take that admonishing tone with anyone since Lord Drillemont at Whitebrim. “You really _should be_ elsewhere, readying yourself for the coming battle.”

“I _am_ ready,” Sizhu murmured, noticeably subdued, looking very serious and also a little sad. “I just wanted to thank you for what you said, and tell you...that I’m proud and really grateful to have you as my friend.” She didn’t say _just in case_ or anything of the sort, but after the Waking Sands, she doubted any of the remaining Scions would easily forget just how quickly a once-vibrant life could be snatched away.

Alphinaud obviously understood where she was coming from, because at that he relented, finally giving her a slight smile and a fleeting moment of eye contact. “Very well, then. I shall graciously acknowledge and accept your gratitude...and extend my own as well, in return.” He gave another vague wave of one hand as his eyes slid off her again, seemingly interested in focusing on anything and everything other than the Miqo’te mage. “And now that you’ve unburdened yourself of that great weight, perhaps we can both return our focus to our vastly differing roles in the upcoming confrontation.”

It still wasn’t what she’d hoped for at all, yet it was a great deal better than nothing, even though Sizhu found that it left her feeling far from satisfied. But then she heard her name being shouted, and glanced over her shoulder to see an axe-wielding Duskwight Elezen as well as another Keeper of the Moon, this one with stylishly flashy hair, waving at her, a gently-smiling Wildwood Elezen in healer's robes standing behind them. With her fellow adventurers telling her it was time to go, Sizhu firmly put the whole matter out of her mind, done with it for the time being.

Her friends were waiting, and they were depending on her to be focused, to heal them, to lead them, and also to back them up one hundred and twenty percent. And she couldn’t-- _wouldn’t_ \--let anything else get in the way of that.


	5. 'What Happens In Wineport...'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A big 'THANK YOU' to my three FC-mates who let me use their characters in this chapter! :D Your characters made it much easier to make this chapter fun! <3

Things were different after the Castrum fell, and Gaius Van Baelsar and the Ultima Weapon were defeated.  
  
The three heads of the Eorzean Alliance announced the end of the Seventh Umbral Era, and the beginning of the Seventh Astral Era.  
  
The Primals were once again free, and seemed to come back stronger and stronger each time they were summoned, the fights to put them down getting harder, sometimes even extremely so.  
  
The Scions were rebuilding after the assault on the Waking Sands, and the idea of moving elsewhere, to a more truly neutral location, was beginning to take root.  
  
And the distance that Alphinaud had placed between them before their attack on the Castrum only seemed to increase.  
  
Sizhu tried to catch him alone, to pull him aside to ask what was wrong, to figure out why someone she considered to be one of her closest friends was behaving in such a cool, reserved manner, but the young Elezen arcanist proved to be cussedly good at keeping others present or slipping away while she was still occupied with other conversations.  Sizhu found it rather bewildering, and could only wonder what she’d done to make Alphinaud suddenly all but disappear from her life.  
  
The truth of the matter was something that only Alphinaud himself knew: that he was intentionally distancing himself from her.  Seeing the Praetorium consumed in flames while Sizhu was still inside had been an unexpectedly gut-wrenching blow for the silver-tongued Scion.  Being powerless, unable to do anything but watch and wait, all the while thinking that his strongest and most trustworthy companion might be trapped and dying, if not already dead, knowing that there was an immensely high probability that he would never see her again...he hadn’t liked how it felt.  That it made him feel anything.  
  
_(That it reminded him of how he’d felt when…)_  
  
His grandfather had doubtless cared about those he’d led and those who had worked alongside him--enough so that he risked his life and even died to protect them.  But Alphinaud was not Louisiox, and while he had embraced the feeling of warmth that had come with growing close to like-minded individuals and striving to reach a common goal...there was significant potential for pain that was part and parcel of that bond, something he’d only just truly realised.  Yes, he’d been concerned about losing Sizhu when she’d fought the dragon at Stone Vigil, but that had been easy to rationalise away: finding a new champion, particularly one of her calibre, would have been time-consuming, an extremely inconvenient complication to his many, various plans.  In the time since then, however, he’d been forced to acknowledge the fact that there most likely _was_ no one else out there of Sizhu’s exact calibre...and moreover, his concern regarding the Miqo’te girl’s welfare ran a great deal deeper than simple apprehension that his plans might not reach fruition.  
  
And that, he concluded, was unacceptable.  
  
He needed her combat skills, after all, and also needed to be capable of making full use of them; he couldn’t allow himself to be preoccupied, or fraught with concern every time he sent her somewhere dangerous to intervene in matters that had gotten out of hand.  His mind must be clear of such things to truly focus and make the most prudent decisions...but he couldn’t very well refuse to send Sizhu where she was needed in the interests of preserving her life.  To do so would be overprotective, not to mention out of line--he had no right, no authority to tell her where she could and could not go--and in any case, such behaviour would likely only speed their collective downfalls...and might very well doom the whole of Eorzea in the process.  
  
...And yet, if he permitted himself to care for her as much as he sensed he had the capacity to do so...no.  No, far better to distance himself from her now, before he grew even more emotionally attached to her, or their relationship developed into something other than the current platonic companionship they shared, with the occasional aside of playful, if largely unreciprocated, romantic advances from Sizhu.  That was wholly unexplored territory for the young Elezen, and intriguing as the idea of mapping out the many thrilling twists and turns of it together with the Miqo’te mage was, there were much more pressing matters at hand.  Even ‘just having fun’ seemed like too much of a commitment at the present, all things considered.  
  
So when Sizhu finally did manage to corner him for a private conversation, curious and concerned, though not yet truly aggrieved over his recent disregard towards her, Alphinaud knew full well what reply he had to give.

* * *

   
“...Avoiding you?  I can assure you that I’ve been doing nothing of the sort.”  
  
Sizhu gave a disbelieving snort that was more than halfway to being an indignant huff.  “What _else_ should I call it when you’re hardly ever around?”  She scowled at him, lower lip thrust out rather childishly at his aloof dismissal of her words.  That sort of behaviour from him wasn’t anything new, she was aware of that, and yet...  “And then when you are around, you always say that you have to be somewhere else and don’t really have time to stay and talk!”  
  
He still owed her that promised cup of tea at the Quicksand, she hadn’t forgotten that, but she was hesitant to bring it up just then.  She would much rather hang on to an unfulfilled promise rather than have him wave it away dismissively, or even take back the offer, which felt like a very real possibility at the moment, considering the way Alphinaud had been acting of late.  
  
“I truly am quite busy, you know.  As are you, I should think.”  Posting one hand on his hip, he gestured pointedly with the other.  “Times of peace are never quite so serene as we would hope, or as the history books would have us believe.  In fact, I must say that I’m rather taken aback that you’ve had the time to notice any supposed absence on my part.  If I’m not mistaken, almost the entirety of your time for the past few weeks has been dedicated to dealing with resurgences of the Primal threat, making ties with certain elements of the various Beast Tribes, and retracing your steps through all the many, divers caverns and ruins Eorzea has to offer.”  He arched a brow at her, amusement plain in his patronizing smile.  “Treasure hunting, perhaps?  
  
Sizhu’s nose went up at that, and she gave a mockingly haughty sniff.  “Mm, well, you know, we can’t all be born into high-class families with coffers so wide and vast that the Indigo Deep looks like a shallow mud puddle in comparison.”  
  
Alphinaud couldn’t hide a chuckle at that--it was reassuring to find that she was sharp-tongued as ever when pressed, and he had to admit that he’d missed their usual banter.  “The Leveilleur family does enjoy a comfortable degree of affluence, ‘tis true, though our purses are not nearly so bottomless as you seem to believe.  Nevertheless, I meant no disrespect with my previous comment.  There are more types of treasure than simple stacks of coin, after all, and some things that no amount of money can buy.”  
  
“Like true friendship?  Like ours?”  
  
Sizhu said it lightly, as if it were a joke, but for all the levity in her tone, it was a weighty pair of questions.  It was her way of casually testing the waters, of trying to ascertain what was going on here, and whether or not something had happened between them for which she was somehow to blame.  
  
Alphinaud saw through it in an instant, as she surely must have expected him to--generally speaking, she wasn’t one to underestimate others, particularly in areas where they were specifically known to be highly proficient.  It was a trap, but he wouldn’t be caught in it, nor would he simply spring it.  
  
“That might be giving us rather too much credit,” he chuckled, matching her pleasantly cheery tone.  “We have weathered a handful of noteworthy hardships together, certainly, and I am both pleased and deeply grateful that you so willingly permit me to make use of your strength and support in times of trouble.”  
  
“Why are you saying it like that, Alphie?” Sizhu asked, her smile tentative and bewildered.  “You make it sound like we’re not close companions.”  
  
“Are we?”  
  
“What?  Of course we-”  
  
_“Are_ we, though?  Are we truly?”  
  
The Miqo’te mage just blinked at him, looking thoroughly bemused.  “Mm, we are, really and truly...what else would we be?”  
  
“Why, it’s quite simple, really,”  Alphinaud gave a careless shrug before crossing his arms, body language and tone both flippant and unflustered.  “When it comes down to it, you’re a chess piece, nothing more.  My most powerful and valuable piece, my white queen, ‘tis true.  But the basic fact of the matter remains unchanged.”  
  
For a long moment, Sizhu could only stare at him, her expression that of someone searching a stranger’s face for some scrap of familiarity.  After a long moment, she looked away, ducking her head and hunching her shoulders, fists clenched at her side.  
  
Alphinaud watched her impassively, standing firm with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, looking every bit the part of the uncaring, aloof chessmaster.  
  
She was silent for a long while, but finally he heard her muttering something to herself under her breath.  
  
“...’re wrong.”  
  
Despite his decision to force this distance between them, curiosity was a difficult impulse  to resist, and he couldn’t help reflexively leaning in towards her a bit, straining to hear her words.  “...Pardon?”  
  
_“You’re wrong!”_  Her head came up with a snap, so sharp and sudden that he couldn’t prevent himself from taking a startled step backwards; he almost took a second step when he saw the fierce look on her face.  “That’s not all I am, or what we are!  We’re _friends!_  You said so yourself!” she insisted, the stubborn jut of her chin and the defiant light in her violet eyes actually making her look rather fetching in Alphinaud’s opinion.  Not that he allowed any such thoughts to make their way into his expression, of course: outwardly he remained composed, cool, and utterly unmoved by the Miqo’te girl’s words.  
  
“But of course.  It would be the heights of foolishness to deny someone as influential as the Warrior of Light a claim upon my friendship,” he said with a glib smile, inwardly wincing a bit even as he forced himself to add, “You’re worth far too much for any of us to risk alienating you in such a manner.”  
  
Sizhu visibly flinched at the cold pragmatism of his statement, eyes going wide, and for half a second, she looked so hurt that he thought she might cry.  Then she blinked several times rapidly, and while she still looked despondent, a slight droop in her ears and limpness to her tail as she turned away, the threat of tears was completely gone.  She didn’t look back at him even once, much less try to gainsay him as was typically her wont, simply whistling up her chocobo and sweeping off to parts unknown--doubtless off on some new quest, he assumed.  
  
Still, her reaction in and of itself was troubling, the Elezen youth found on further consideration, for it was the first time he’d seen something negative that someone said to her actually have a lasting, visible effect on her demeanor.  Alphinaud wondered at that, uncertain in the face of such obvious power to sway one as strong as a supposed Hero of Light.  Then again, it was certainly very potentially _useful_ to have that level of control over her, to know his words carried significant weight as far as Sizhu Jakkya was concerned.  
  
...Even so, for some reason he felt just slightly guilty--both for knowingly taking advantage of her nascent but potentially strong feelings for him, and also for pushing her away in the first place--but he knew it was for the best.  It might not have been precisely what his grandfather would have done in such a situation, but it was necessary all the same, so he didn’t quite let himself regret it, even though part of him dearly wished to.

* * *

  
It had been nearly a month since the Empire’s defeat, but victory celebrations were still commonplace events.  Magical healing abilities or not, some of the soldiers and adventurers involved had needed those weeks of recovery time to fully get back on their feet, and only now were truly fit enough to take part in the festivities.  Everyone in Sizhu’s free company had come out of those battles more or less unscathed, or at least not direly wounded, but a party was a party, and the Hades Party was not one to pass up the chance for some fun between exploring dungeons and fighting off giant monsters.  
  
Wineport was a grand location for a celebration--where better to get the best, cheapest, and sweetest of drinks than directly from the source?--and everyone in the place seemed overjoyed at the idea of hosting a party for the heroes who had saved Eorzea from the Black Wolf’s relentless advance.  
  
Sizhu had been all but dragged along--the Warrior of Light should be present at an event like this, her free company’s sometimes-strict second in command had said, so the Miqo’te girl had gone, though after that morning’s disheartening conversation with Alphinaud, she didn’t feel much like celebrating.  Why did it bother her so much, she couldn’t help but wonder.  True, it was never pleasant when someone you thought to be a friend pulled away or even outright rejected you, but this...this particularly melancholy feeling wasn’t like any she’d experienced before.  
  
And so she sat on a bench in the middle of a crowd of chatting, laughing merrymakers, staring down into her untouched mug of some sort of frothy-looking drink and wondering why, exactly, she felt so miserable when she and Alphinaud supposedly weren’t all that close to begin with.  
  
_“SIZ!”_  
  
Half her drink slapped across the flagstones in front of her as she was tackled from behind, and the other half and the mug itself soon followed as she was hauled to her feet and forcefully towed between, around, and in some cases even over other party-goers.  Before long, she found herself being pulled away from the party, up some stairs, then pushed down into a seat at another makeshift party table, at which sat some familiar faces: Korsica and Marielle, two sophisticated-looking Elezen adventurers who’d joined her on many a quest, most recently the showdown at the Praetorium.  
  
Korsica Frageorloix was an Elezen of Ishgardian nobility, primarily an axe-wielding warrior, though she was trying her hand at various other things as well.  She had something of an air of mystery about her, which made it impossible for the constantly-curious Sizhu to leave her alone; her reasons for leaving Ishgard behind were manifold, but for the most part were still largely unclear at the moment, though from what the Miqo’te girl had seen of the place, she couldn’t blame ‘Korsi’ for wanting to get out and see the rest of the world a little, not to mention join in the fight to save Eorzea.  
  
Marielle Lothaire was a Wildwood Elezen, originally hailing from Gridania, and she something of a jack of all trades: mainly a healer, she was also capable of wielding darker, more destructive magical powers, as well as taking up sword and shield as a paladin when the need arose.  ‘Mari’ was something of a big sister figure in their free company, tending to wounds and giving out soft-spoken advice...though many had learned the hard way that there was quiet steel and a great deal of secret snark lurking below her gentle exterior.  
  
And then there was Altasta Tohka, another Keeper of the Moon who had also been a part of the fight against Gaius and the Ultima Weapon.  Originally from Gridania as well, ‘Alta’ and Mari were childhood friends, with a bond that Sizhu had yet to see rivaled anywhere, by anyone.  Alta was a dragoon first and foremost, a veritable ball of energy who constantly bounced around the Free Company’s headquarters, but like her best friend, she was also a skilled healer, not to mention an accomplished warrior and bard, besides.  
  
On reaching her goal, Altasta finally released Sizhu’s arm and plunked herself down in the seat beside the baffled little white mage with a jubilant, “Found her!”  
  
“Obviously,” Korsica commented dryly, though her half-smirk was good-natured, not condescending.  
  
“Well done, dear,” Marielle added with a warm smile that made Altasta puff out her chest proudly.  “Locating one person in a crowd this size is quite impressive.”  
  
“You were looking for me?” Sizhu looked around at three of her closest companions, clearly nonplussed by the current situation.  They had more than earned the right to celebrate; they should be dancing and drinking and laughing with everyone else instead of sitting here away from it all, surrounded by grape vines and semi-cloistered from the rest of the world.  “But why?”  
  
“ ‘Cause it’s a PARTY!” Altasta announced, rearing back and throwing her arms dramatically wide, then dropping them to her sides every bit as suddenly; half a second later, she was leaning in to poke the tip of Sizhu’s nose with her finger instead, causing the other Miqo’te to shy away from her.  “And _you’re_ sittin’ over there looking like you’d rather be tryin’ to fight your way through Aurum Vale alone with nothing but a broken toothpick than drinking up and havin’ fun here with all of us!”  
  
“Indeed,” Marielle said with a mildly reproving glance towards the bubbly dragoon, who hastily sat on her hands to resist the urge to indulge in any further intrusive poking.  “As Altasta so eloquently put it, you seemed...exceedingly preoccupied with your own thoughts, and not at all interested in the festivities.”  
  
“Is aught troubling you?” Korsica’s words were softly-spoken, yet they were clear, and easily audible over the sound of the music and merrymaking.  “If so, you have before you three willing listeners, should you feel inclined to share whatever anxieties are taxing you at present.”  
  
Sizhu hesitated, not quite sure she wanted to discuss this...whatever-it-was with anyone else--it was nothing serious, after all, nothing realm-shakingly important...and yet, the idea of telling a few trusted friends some of her innermost thoughts, getting them out in the open for someone other than herself to examine, was more appealing than she’d expected.  
  
Sensing her indecision, Altasta slid a half-full cup of some sort of fruity-smelling drink over to her.  Sizhu sniffed it curiously, took a tentative sip, then a full mouthful, and within seconds the cup was empty.  The alcohol would take a while to truly have any effect on her, she knew, but the simple act of drinking it at all was enough to embolden the young Miqo’te.   
  
After downing another two cups of the same juice-like liquor, the story came out, haltingly at first, then all in a rush as the wine started to make its presence felt.  She started with a summary of her interaction with Alphinaud that morning, jumping backwards and then leaping forwards or sideways in time every so often to mention another minor detail or curious exchange (though she didn’t quite mention _every_ thing that had happened the night before facing Garuda that first time, intentionally leaving out a few of the more personal details).  Still, it took a while for her to say everything that she felt needed to be said, and through it all, the other three adventurers just listened in attentive, respectful silence, other than the occasional understanding hum here or a low huff of amusement there.  
  
Finally, though, the deluge of words and pent-up, perplexing emotions slowed, and Sizhu soon brought it all to a close, suddenly feeling self-conscious but relieved, yet no less bewildered by her own feelings than she’d been at the start.  
  
“...So y’see, it’s just...my chest feels all fluttery and my stomach really hurts, and sometimes it’s even kinda hard to breathe when he’s really close, and it...it doesn’t make any sense.”  It was a bit of a struggle to cleanly translate her thoughts into words now--she was already feeling just a little tipsy from the wine.  “People have been mean to me before--more mean than that, by a lot!  And I’ve had friends who I really liked suddenly not want to be my friends any more, too...so why…?  Why does it _hurt_ so much more this time?”  Feeling moisture on her cheeks, Sizhu scrubbed at her eyes hard with the backs of her hands, then stared at the wet streaks on her fingers despondently.  “What’s wrong with me…?”  
  
“...Oh my,” Korsica murmured after the following moment of silence had stretched itself thin, sharing a meaningful look with the other two women.  “We did have our suspicions, but it sounds as though it’s far more serious than we thought.”  
  
“Yes,” the other Elezen agreed as she raised her goblet of Lohmani Rosso to her lips again, “It does sound quite serious…”  
  
“Yup, definitely!”  
  
“S-serious?”  Sizhu’s eyes had gone wide at their dour-sounding pronouncement.  “What is?”  
  
“What you just told us that you’ve got, silly!” Altasta answered with an impish grin and a giggle, bumping her shoulder against the other Keeper of the Moon’s playfully.  
  
“What I’ve got?  Wait, you mean...it’s some sort of _actual illness?”_  
  
“Something like that,” Marielle said with a secretive smile that she only half-hid behind her goblet.  
  
Sizhu instantly clapped her hands over her nose and mouth, leaning sharply away from her friends.  She’d thought that this was purely an emotional thing, not a real physical ailment, but if two healers as skilled as Mari and Alta said otherwise...  “What’s wrong with me?  Is it contagious?”  
  
“Naaaah~” Altasta chuckled, sharing a wink with Marielle across the table.  “Nooo worries!  We’re safe enough!  Anyroad, I’m pretty sure we’ve all had it ourselves already!  Not that that really makes you completely and totally 100% immune to it or anything though… Guess you could always catch it again!”  
  
“But what _is_ it?  And how do I get rid of it?!”  A simple Esuna didn’t seem likely to work, and neither did an antidote--she didn’t feel poisoned or anything like that.  
  
Korsica folded her arms over her chest, bowing her head gravely.  “...Regretfully, I can only inform you that there is no real, known cure for the condition you’ve developed.”  
  
“Indeed, I must agree that it would seem that it’s rather too far along,” Marielle confirmed with a solemn nod.  
  
“Definitely a terminal case!” Altasta chimed in cheerfully before knocking back the rest of her drink and bouncing off to get another round for everyone.  
  
“...There may not be a cure, strictly speaking,” Marielle said, surreptitiously watching Altasta go before turning her full attention back to Sizhu.  “But understanding the source of it all, the reason behind why you feel as you do...that can go a long way.”  
  
Sizhu looked back and forth between the two Elezen women, her expression all but shouting, _but what IS the source of it all?_  
  
The time for indirect teasing and subtle nudges was over, Korsica decided as she set down her mug of ale with a low sigh, at least for the moment.  Raising an eyebrow at the tiny Keeper of the Moon, she flat-out stated, “Your exchange with a certain imperious Elezen youth seems to have stuck in your mind rather more than might be expected, no?”  
  
Sizhu nodded dumbly, wondering what Korsi meant by that.  Certainly, she cared about Alphinaud, and who didn’t want to feel liked and accepted by people they cared about?  But that was all it was...wasn’t it?  He was interesting, and she found herself watching him whenever he was around, but surely that was just her usual, insatiable curiosity coming into play once again...  
  
“From what you’ve told us, Alphinaud is the most likely source of what you’re feeling,” Korsica continued matter-of-factly.  “He all but rejected your claim of friendship, did he not?”  
  
“Well, yeah-”  
  
“And you’re _really_ interested in him, aren’t you?” Marielle inquired, jumping in to help Korsica tag-team their innocently oblivious friend.  “More than _anyone_ you’ve ever met before?”  
  
“Y-yeah, I guess, but-”  
  
“And you do wish for your relationship to be a closer one, yes?  More... _intimate,_ perhaps?”  
  
Scandalised colour flared in Sizhu’s cheeks, and though she opened her mouth to answer that, nothing came out.  
  
“Yet not only is Alphinaud resisting your efforts to grow closer to him, he’s placing additional distance between you.”  
  
Sizhu shut her mouth with a snap, dropping her gaze to the table as she nodded, then reached for her nearly-empty wine cup.  Marielle and Korsica exchanged glances again, and the Wildwood Elezen gave an almost imperceptible nod, a subtle but clear _go for it._  
  
Korsica give a minute nod in return, her attention flicking back to the Miqo’te in front of them.  “Whatever the reason, it’s hard to be separated from the person you love,” she deadpanned, and Sizhu promptly choked on her drink.  
  
_“Wh-wh-wha-?!”_ she sputtered once she’d coughed her lungs mostly-free of wine.   _“Wh-what’re you-?!”_  
  
“I can’t say I think much of your taste in men,” Korsica went on, as if Sizhu hadn’t said anything at all.  “But then again, I suppose that love doesn’t tend to be very rational.”  
  
_“Wh-”_  
  
“The heart wants what it wants, as they say,” Marielle agreed pleasantly, also ignoring Sizhu’s continued red-faced stammering.  “And the course of true love never did run smooth.  It would seem you’ve certainly got your work cut out for you, Sizhu.”  
  
_“Wh-”_  
  
“Oho~  What’s up, what’s up?”  Altasta had finally found her way back to the table, easily carrying a tray stacked artfully high with drinks on one hand.  “Has Siz finally admitted that she’s _tooooootally_ head over heels in love with Alphie-nope?”  
  
_“WILL ALL OF YOU STOP SAYING THAT!”_ Sizhu finally burst out, clapping her hands over her face, a vain attempt to hide the telltale flush still staining her cheeks bright crimson.  “I don’t-!  I’m not-!   _I’m not in love with him!_  I just-!”  She seemed to sag in her seat a bit, ears drooping dejectedly, but though she lowered her hands, her face was still noticeably pink as she mumbled, “...I just want to be friends…”  
  
The three older adventurers exchanged glances once again, coming to an instant and silent agreement.  They knew that they’d pushed this as far as they could today--both in the spirit of good fun, but also in an honest attempt to help their younger, more inexperienced companion--and all three of them knew better than to take things any farther.  It was clear that they’d at least given Sizhu something to think about, and made her aware of what those uncomfortable feelings of hers might very well be.  
  
Without another word, they all simply accepted the fact that that particular subject was closed until further notice, and immediately seized upon several new topics of conversation, blithely chatting away about Marielle’s new white mage’s staff, the dungeon Korsica wanted to explore next, and Altasta’s latest hair-change.  
  
Sizhu didn’t join in right away; instead, she found herself putting some serious thought into what they’d said.  She engaged in more than enough teasing herself to recognise it when it was turned on her, but even so, she couldn’t help feeling that there was an incontestable element of truth behind it.  She _did_ want to be closer to Alphinaud, she couldn’t truthfully deny that, though her heart sank at that realisation.  Now that she thought about it, it made perfect sense that his offhanded rejection would hurt more, because, deep down, she _did_ want more from him.  More than simple, platonic friendship, though exactly how _much_ more she still couldn’t say.  All she really knew was that she’d never felt this way about anyone else before...so maybe...  
  
...Maybe the others were right, and she really was in the early stages of falling in love with Alphinaud Leveilleur...  
  
At that moment, a loud cheer from nearby broke in on her thoughts, and the following increase in both the volume and the quickening in the beat of the music made her sit up a little straighter.  Here she was, surrounded by friends and friendly faces, at a party in full-swing--that was being thrown to celebrate a victory that she’d played a significant role in, no less--and all she could think about was something like _this._  
  
_No,_ she decided, enough was enough.  She’d wasted all the time and tears she wanted to waste on this today.  
  
Quite honestly, she was tired of thinking at all.  
  
Determined to forget all her troubles and lingering worries, at least for now, Sizhu snatched up one of the cups of liquor in the miniature mountain that Alta had brought for them, slinging it back without even tasting it, and immediately reaching for another before standing up and heading off to find the source of all that music--and, hopefully, join in on the dancing.

* * *

  
Sizhu had never been a heavy drinker, but that night she didn’t feel inclined to show any form of restraint.  She wanted to forget what she was feeling, and even more why she was feeling it, so she drank whatever was given to her, whatever anyone told her to try, whatever people urged her to drink.  By the time the party was over, she was on the bare outer edge of consciousness, bonelessly slumped over a table, face down in the middle of a stack of empty ale mugs and a cluster of wine bottles.  
  
It was almost distressingly obvious that the Warrior of Light wasn’t going anywhere under her own power for quite some time.  
  
It was Korsica who ‘rescued’ her from the otherwise inevitable fate of sleeping beneath a table or in a ditch somewhere.  Sizhu couldn’t even open both eyes at the same time, much less walk or stand under her own power, and with how much she was swaying, it seemed unlikely that she’d be able to stay astride a chocobo; so in the end, Korsi had wordlessly slung the Miqo’te girl over her shoulder and carried her back to their free company’s house in the Lavender Beds like a very groggy and soon-to-be-hungover sack of grain.  Sizhu didn’t have a room of her own there, so despite the possibility of all that alcohol making a sudden and unpleasant reappearance, the Ishgardian noblewoman put the tiny mage to sleep in her own private chambers, tucking her into the single Riviera bed and settling in nearby on an Ahriman chair to doze and keep watch.  
  
After her considerable contribution to their conversation earlier that night, the tall Elezen warrior felt more than a little responsible for the Miqo’te girl’s subsequent actions.  She had seen this sort of behaviour in dozens of others before, from lovelorn foot soldiers to heartbroken nobility, and she knew all too well what it meant; and close as they had grown during their various adventures, Korsi found that she had to take pity on the younger adventurer, despite her clear (and clearly intentional) lapse in judgment that night where alcohol consumption was concerned.  Sizhu would doubtless need a helping hand in the morning, when the head-pounding price of temporary forgetfulness made itself known, and Korsi would be there for her.  
  
After all, what else were true friends for?


	6. To Love Is To Lose

Despite Sizhu’s possible ‘revelation’ of sorts concerning her feelings for Alphinaud, nothing really changed, either for the better or the worse. Almost a month passed without any contact between the two of them; then a linkpearl call came from the Waking Sands. Before long, Alphinaud was once again requesting her assistance, moving her across the board in another of his inscrutable diplomatic chess-games, and this time the immediate goal was to locate the source of rumours concerning Minfilia's almost certainly long-dead adoptive mother. The long-term goal was considerably more substantial, of course: if her mother were found, or proved to be dead beyond a doubt, then Minfilia might consent to move the Scions' headquarters from Vesper Bay and its Ul’dahn entanglements to the decidedly more neutral Mor Dhona.

Alphinaud was too focused on the task at hand for Sizhu to find a moment to speak with him about their somewhat frosty-feeling friendship, and with the fate of the Scions on the line, the strain in her relationship with Alphinaud seemed almost insignificant in comparison. Before she knew it, they’d split up to follow separate trails of information, and Sizhu was making an all-too-familiar cross-country ride across Thanalan to the Church of Saint Adama Landama: the very place where she’d first truly joined forces with Alphinaud.  


* * *

The search proved to be a long, roaming quest that took Sizhu from the rocky desert outside Camp Drybone to the sandy beaches of Costa del Sol to the lush jungles south of Wineport.  Yet, as if further proof was needed that Fate had a terrible sense of humour, somehow she and Alphinaud both ended up in the same place at the same time, finding their quarry at nearly the same moment.  No sooner had Sizhu fought off a ravenous goobbue and begun to address the white-haired Miqo’te woman she’d rescued than a familiar voice spoke up from nearby.  
  
“Typical.  Of all the many leads, yours _obviously_ had to be the one which bore fruit.  I don’t know why I bother…”  
  
_Mm, why_ ** _did_** _you bother,_ Sizhu wanted to say, but she bit her lip and turned her face away instead as Alphinaud came to stand beside her.  This was about Minfilia and her mother, as well as the future of the Scions, not about Alphinaud and herself.  In any case, Alphinaud’s attention had already shifted from her to the other Miqo’te, and there was little point in interrupting the conversation with a waspish response.  
  
“The Songstress of Ul’dah, I presume?  Minfilia--or should I say, Ascilia--is looking for you.”  
  
F’lhaminn--for it had to be she, judging by her reaction to Minfilia’s birth name--exclaimed in surprise, and the two fell to a conversational contest of wits that all but completely excluded Sizhu.  She was used to that; she tended to be quiet, a listener more than a speaker.  But for some reason, this time it stung a bit to be left out, to have Alphinaud’s eyes so pointedly turned away from her.  
  
Before long, the other two had decided to resume their conversation in a safer locale--Wineport itself rather than the potentially goobbue-filled jungle around it--and while she balked inwardly at being all but ordered to follow along after them, Sizhu did so without comment, just her usual simple nod.  
  
The other two talked as they went, and once again Sizhu felt closed out, but then again, she couldn’t think of anything she really wanted to say at the moment, so perhaps that was just as well.  Before long they’d reached Wineport, and then before she knew it, the Miqo’te mage was being tasked with another likely-dangerous but also trite-seeming quest for a person she scarcely knew.  Alphinaud wasn’t pleased with it either, she could tell, but he knew how to recognize when another person wouldn’t give ground regarding a subject or resolution, and F’lhaminn was determined in this.  After a long debate, the Elezen youth gave a sigh, turning to Sizhu with a shake of his head.  
  
“...Let’s just get this over with, shall we?”  
  
Even then he didn’t look her in the eye, and she felt her tongue curl around the edges of the sharp words she wanted to say in response: _does that mean you’ll actually be coming along to help me, for once?_  But even if it felt like just another random errand, this was important and time was of the essence, so she bit the words back, gave a nod, and left to obey the whims of a stranger, for the sake of the Scions and therefore Eorzea itself.  
  


* * *

Her quest to kill the mud pugils, then her brief struggle with the gurangatch itself, not to mention the chocobo ride there and back, gave Sizhu time to think...which she actually regretted somewhat in the end.  On her return to Wineport, she was thinking of the previous time she’d been there: the party with the other members of her Free Company.  And her recollection of that night...well.  There was some cloudiness, some slight gaps in her memory, but she remembered dancing, drinking, and...a discussion of her possible romantic feelings for a certain Elezen youth who hailed from Sharlayan.  
  
She still wasn’t certain the others had been right about that--part of her staunchly denied that it was possible, in fact.  And yet…  
  
And yet she couldn’t dismiss the idea completely, much as she fought to do so.  It happened that she was given even more time to think as she, Alphinaud, and F’lhaminn left Wineport and made their return to Costa del Sol, then Limsa, then took the ferry by the Arcanists' Guild to Vesper Bay.  And well, she admitted to herself (albeit a little grudgingly), the feelings her friends had suggested she might have _would_ probably explain why being snubbed by Alphinaud made her chest ache so oddly.  
  
Still, even if she _was_ at least halfway in love with him already, she was at a loss as to how she should proceed.  The atmosphere between them felt...strained, somehow.  It felt as though Alphinaud was keeping her at a distance, and Sizhu wasn’t certain how to respond to that, really.  Her realisation--and moreover, her slowly-growing acceptance--as to what she might feel for the other teen left her feeling awkward, self-conscious, and hyper-aware of Alphinaud’s presence.  Just knowing that he was nearby made her stomach feel like it was tying itself in knots--ones complicated enough that the Admiral herself would’ve approved if they’d been used onboard one of her ships.  Sizhu very nearly jumped out of her skin when their arms brushed on the way down the stairs into the Waking Sands, while Alphinaud himself didn’t so much as blink. (Though, did the tips of his ears go red, or was it just the dim light playing tricks on her eyes?)  Perhaps worst of all, she suddenly found that she didn’t know where to direct her gaze, torn between the desire to blatantly stare at his face and the equal and opposite impulse to avoid even fleeting eye contact at all costs.  
  
It made everything worse, somehow, that Alphinaud was so warm towards Minfilia while discussing her past.  And then there was the smile he turned on Sizhu herself when his plan succeeded, and it was finally decided that the Scions should move to Mor Dhona--a conspirator’s smile that said they were thick as thieves and perhaps more besides, which left her feeling at a complete loss.  Was he simply so pleased with himself at that moment that he couldn’t help but discard the distance he’d placed between them?  Or had she imagined it all in the first place?  
  


* * *

Something was bothering F’lhaminn, which meant something was bothering Minfilia.  And since the antecedent was busy enough, Sizhu was more than willing to try to set the older Miqo’te woman’s mind at ease.  
  
After some scrambling about on various tasks surrounding the repair of an important pair of earrings, Sizhu managed to do just that...and learned a bit more about Minfilia’s mother in the process.  The man who’d made the earrings, it turned out, had been someone F'lhaminn cared for deeply...and he had been murdered with a magicked blade that prevented his body from decaying. Thus it looked for all the world as if he were merely sleeping, not truly dead, which made it hard for his loved ones to find closure.  Sizhu’s hands went to her mouth on hearing tell of it, trying in vain to stifle a startled gasp of horror.  She couldn’t stop her eyes from darting towards Alphinaud immediately in an all-too-telling manner--and when her gaze returned to the other Miqo’te, Sizhu could tell from the still faintly-sad curve of the Songstress’s smile that F’lhaminn had caught her out.  
  
The little mage felt a slow, sinking sensation as F’lhaminn looked back and forth between her and the Elezen teen, but the older woman didn’t comment, that small smile just going soft and knowing as she finished her tale: “To love is to lose, child.  One can but postpone the moment of parting.”  
  
Sizhu thought that sounded pretty pessimistic, and yet...so many of her previous relationships, her grandmother and her mother and the whole rest of her tribe, hadn’t done anything to prove that false, though she couldn’t say for certain that it was completely true either.  
  
“Tell Ascilia that I am quite well, Sizhu.  She should concentrate on more important matters─ ”  Sizhu couldn’t help flinching a bit as F’lhaminn caught her eye, then turned a pointed look on Alphinaud before returning her attention to the little white mage.  “And so should you.”  
  
With one last pointed quirk of an eyebrow, the Songstress of Ul’dah made her way down the corridor towards the Waking Sands’ main supply room, leaving the two teens alone.  
  
“She’s right, you know,” Alphinaud mused as they watched her go, breaking in on the white mage’s thoughts, which had crept back to her distant family once again.  “Caring too much only ever seems to bring heartache to those foolish enough to do so.”  
  
He sounded so much like his pre-Castrum self that Sizhu couldn’t help glancing over at him, then back at F’lhaminn’s retreating figure, her expression considering.  “Mm, maybe she is.  A famous songstress like her is bound to know a lot more about love than a couple of kids like you and me, right?”   
  
Somehow, though, that didn’t quite ring true.  After all, Sizhu knew she wouldn’t trade those long, peaceful days of hunting in the forest with her grandmother for anything, regardless of how painful or bittersweet the memories were now.  She felt the same about the moonlit festival-nights celebrated by her tribe, recollections of dancing in silvery pools of light with her mother and brother during those rare moments of shared levity and happiness… And, she realised, she bore a similar feeling regarding Alphinaud himself, as well as the rest of the Scions and her fellow adventurers and all the other people she’d befriended.  Even if something happened to them, something beyond her control, something she couldn’t change or undo, she had been blessed simply to know them at all, and to have them in her life for even this long.  
  
_Yes,_ she decided, nodding firmly to herself.   _It was definitely worth it._  
  
“...Then again,” she stated with warmly implacable resolution, which earned her a startled sideways glance from the Elezen youth at her shoulder, “If it’s _really_ love, then maybe having it for any time at all is worth whatever pain it brings in the end.”  
  
Turning her head quickly to ensure she’d catch his eyes with her own, at least briefly, even if he tried to look away, Sizhu gave Alphinaud a long, lingering smile full of open affection.  Then without another word, she made her way down the short hallway, through the doors, and up the steps, heading back out into the relentless Thanalan heat and on to her next adventure.


End file.
